


but bolder.

by stonerjohnlaurens



Series: History Obliterates (The Modern Hamilton Universe) [12]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (that's relevant to the plot), Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Characters of color, Coming of Age, Daddy Issues, Discussions of Slavery and other fucked up things the Founding Fathers did, Family Issues, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, Laurens/Hamilton are parents to Frances and Philip (barely), M/M, Mulligan/Lafayette are parents to Georges, Multi, Parenthood, Recreational Drug Use, Welcome to College Bitch!, things change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonerjohnlaurens/pseuds/stonerjohnlaurens
Summary: Georges Washington De Lafayette is a freshman in the class of 2020 at Columbia University in New York, New York. Philip Hamilton is his roommate. Philip Hamilton is a rockstar of a student and a future lawyer. He's here to prove he's better than the rest, especially his stupid father.Georges doesn't have much to prove. He just wants the visions to stop.[A college reincarnation AU where Georges realizes that even death can't kill your demons, and that parents aren't perfect.][INCOMPLETE, 3 CHAPTERS DONE AS OF 11/26/17]





	but bolder.

Cold weather always came to the campus swiftly, like a skilled thief in the dead of night. With it came the reluctant chiming of bells ringing in the new school year. New faces would grace the dreary, hollow halls of the schools of New York City and some people live for shit like that.

 

Georges was definitely not one of those people. He remembers his freshman move in like it was some sort of fever dream, an eerie day warning of the year to come. His fathers both attended orientation  _ as well as _ the actual day of move-in, because of course they would. Their son worked so hard to get into Columbia, why not?

 

He didn’t consider it smothering. No, he’s always been a sucker for the attention his fathers would give him. He learned fairly quickly in high school that not too many people were blessed with loving parents like his own. Many of his friends, in fact, have less than two parents. Whether this is because of divorce or fatal circumstances varies from person to person, but the story’s too ubiquitous for him to pass up as coincidental.

 

He frequently reminded his parents of how much he loved them on the ride to the school.

 

“But do you really love us? Or are you just saying that?” Hercules says with a chuckle. Lafayette shoves him from the passenger seat.

 

“Do not tease him like that.”

 

“He’s not a kid anymore, Gil, I can tease him. He knows I love his guts.”

 

“I just say it because, I don’t know,” Georges swallows hard. He didn’t want to breach the subject so soon, not right before they let him go off to be independent for the first time in his life.

 

“I have a lot of friends who have parents who…”

 

“Yes?” Lafayette turns in his seat to face his son. “Go on, now.”

 

“They’re dead,” Georges spits out. Lafayette’s breathe hitches, and he lets out a sigh as if Georges’ bluntness has freed him from a decade’s torture.

 

“I’m sorry for being so blatant about it, Dad, I know it’s a tough subject for you, but I just love you guys so much.”

 

“It is...a tough subject, yes.” Lafayette replies slowly.

 

Georges’ grandparents both died before he was born. His grandfather on Gilbert’s side passed away when Gilbert was two, and his grandmother when Gilbert was only leaving his teen years. Georges knew neither of them and never asked his father about him. For he knew how his father valued family, and never wanted to see the flame in his eyes wane from the talk of death.

 

Hercules stayed silent. Both of his parents were still alive and he’s not related to Georges by blood, so he probably felt too inexperienced in the matter to chime in.

 

However, this conversation was futile. With his peers in high school all wishing death upon their own parents, it was only a matter of time before the subject was breached.

 

“We won’t die,” Hercules says from the driver's seat, finally. Georges can’t tell if he’s saying it to assure him or to convince himself.

 

“And we do love you,” Lafayette adds quickly. “So much.”

 

Georges regrets bringing it up in general.

 

“Love you too.” He settles with. “I’m excited to move-in. I’m really ready for things to change.”

* * *

 

Things don’t change. The visions don’t stop.

 

 

Georges hopes that they’ll stop once he’s moved into his new dorm room, away from Albany. When he told his father of the visions, his father told him not to worry. He told him that college stirs up things like this, that he can expect more nervous dreams like the ones he has, because college brings on stress inherently. New environments, or whatever, they bring about disruption in the mind. They would fall away soon enough, his father had said, and he’d be too busy with schoolwork to fret over petty dreams.

 

Georges winces when Gilbert gives him that half-assed advice. These aren’t dreams, he tells his father. They’re maddening, lively  _ visions _ . He’s shaken awake each night they come to him. They’re not just vivid, the thoughts engulf his psyche completely. He doesn’t feel like himself when they come to him, can’t even tell if he’s in control of anything in the horrifying sequences.

 

He’d adapt eventually, he knows. But he wants them to stop.

 

He wakes up shrieking the first few nights he’s moved into his dorm. The visions persist no matter  _ what  _ he tries. He pities his roommate at first, but then he’s on the tail-end of his shitty attitude. He doesn’t feel bad after he’s been snapped at the third time around.  

 

He had high hopes for his roommate, too. The guy’s name is Philip, and he’s decent enough. Brown skin, hair that’s even browner, and a face-splitting smile. His freckles are scattered across his face in a way that’s just short of perfection. Georges would be lying if he said he didn’t find him a bit cute.

 

The hopes, however, didn’t come from any of that. The two were paired together because their parents, Alexander and Gilbert, were friends when they were younger.

 

The parents still  _ are _ friends, actually, just more distant than anticipated.

 

Philip was a ladies man, something that Georges would never be able to relate to. He got popular really quickly once the two hit high school. Georges couldn’t keep up, and he fell off of the pedestal their peers were putting Philip on.

 

But no matter that.

 

Georges already has a path set up for himself, and it consists of three core steps.

 

  1. Graduate from Columbia University _summa cum laude_ , Double majoring in French and Economics, with a possible minor in Human Rights. Walk across the stage, degree in hand, and make his fathers proud.
  2. Accumulate enough money to buy a car on his own, and possibly a place off-campus to stay. He loves his parents dearly (and their money) but he maintains the idea that true independence can only be achieved if he starts to get away from their shadow. He wants to make a name for himself, not for the Lafayette name to overshadow his individuality.
  3. Kiss a boy for the first time, fall in love, marry soon after.



 

The last one was, uh, a stretch.

 

There was one particular September morning, and it was different than others. Philip Hamilton looked...genuinely happy. The weirdest occurrence. He was one to mope and groan, usually about his dumb father and how he’s a traitor or something, not  _be happy._

 

All Georges knew of Alexander Hamilton was his famed lawyer reputation and his sex scandal that shook the tabloids when he was in middle school. Alexander Hamilton and Eliza Schuyler, famed as well but for her family’s wealth, were getting divorced, citing infidelity as the cause of this. Fans of the Schuyler family had leaked to the public pictures of Alexander fraternizing with one Maria Lewis, a popular fashion blogger, leading media outlets to assume the worse of their relationship. Maria took to social media quickly to clear the story up, explaining that she had no interest in Hamilton at all. Alexander disliked the lies surrounding his name in the mainstream media and cleared up things himself with a public address hosted at his own estate: He admitted to having a sex scandal with John Laurens, son of South Carolina senator Henry Laurens, and the divorce from Eliza resulted in his desire to pursue a relationship with him.

 

_ Famed Lawyer Caught in Homo Sex Scandal,  _ screamed headlines. Georges didn’t even understand what was meant by the news at the time, all he knew was that he felt sick looking at them.

 

So, yeah, Philip was never too happy. Today was an anomaly.

 

“George Eacker is coming to the campus today!”

 

“Who?” Georges asks.

 

“George Eacker! Youngest graduate of Columbia Law School, ever. He started practicing at 21, and now he’s like—I think he’s almost 28? I think he’s assisting with a class here now…total badass. My pops…My pops, he’s a dick and all but, man, he loves Eacker, and with good reason. He knows what he’s talking about in a courtroom. He’s a killer lawyer and an amazing speaker—you gotta come with me to his talk, man!”

 

“I…I don’t know man,” Georges feels himself shrink into himself. This was so difficult. Prior to this morning, Philip wanted nothing to do with Georges, now they were supposed to have an entire conversation? They were supposed to go to events with each other?

 

“C’mon man, do you even know if you want to go into law yet?”

 

Georges knew the answer. He definitely did not want to go into law, under any circumstance.

 

“No, I don’t know yet.” He lies.

 

“Aw, then you’ve gotta come! It’s open to the campus community and it’s—Aw, man, Georges, it’s gonna be crazy great, you gotta come with me, be my wingman when I get the balls to ask him a question.”

 

Georges did not want to go to a stupid talk, especially not one that was across campus. Especially not a law-related talk, he doesn’t care for law! This Eacker fellow, while pretty good looking according to the flyer Philip pulled up on his laptop, sounds like a pompous, entitled dickhead. He much rather pass.

 

However, this new Philip was different, eyes shining like stars, flouncy hair wild about his head. He genuinely looks  _ happy.  _ Who’s Georges to rob him of that happiness? And, damn it all, if going to this talk means potentially getting along with him…

 

“Aw, what the hell,” Georges shrugs. “I’m free that morning, I suppose.”

 

Philip lets out a giddy  _ yay!  _ and makes a note of the speech on his dry-erase calendar. Sure, it can be easily erased, but it feels set in stone now to Georges. Philip doodles a crude little drawing next to the date of Georges’ face, and Georges feels warm.

 

_ Oh no.  _ He says to himself.  _ Don’t you dare fall for the straight boy, Georges Washington de Lafayette. Not this early into the school year. _

 

 

The speech begins at 9 am sharp on that Saturday morning, and Philip has himself and his reluctant roommate out of bed by 7 just to prepare. After a rushed breakfast and a much longer primping session than usual, Philip has them hustling across the cold campus at around 8:00.

 

“So early,” Georges protests.

 

“It’s open to all of Columbia’s student body, Georges, it’s gonna get packed pretty quickly, I assume. Only the first 300 people are allowed to stay.” Philip goes dreamy-eyed. “The guy’s a legend, I’m telling you.”

 

Philip got it right. They get to the auditorium at around 8:30 and there are so few seats even this early. Georges and Philip (mostly Philip) decide on perfect seats in the very middle of the auditorium, but are ushered slightly left in interest of the AV club setting up cameras there to livestream the event.

 

“Morning,” Eacker says shortly after speed-walking on stage as the clock hits 9:00am. Georges jumps with the surprise of it all combined with the bass in his voice. It was going to take a while to realize how serious Columbia and other Ivy Leagues take time and starting times.

 

This Eacker guy looked pretty decent. He had dark skin and broad features. He was slender yet his shirt he wore revealed he had a rather athletic build overall. His hair was professionally tapered—not a single hair out of place, not a crease in his clothing.

 

“Morning,” the audience echoed back. Nice to see that even Ivy Leaguers have pulses.

 

“If you’re here, congratulations. You’re smart.” Eacker starts. “My nine o’clock start time is merely a suggestion, the only correct time to be is  _ early. _ You will all also get advance registration notice on my mid-semester, 3 week-long class, if you are so interested—which, if you’re under the sound of my voice today, I’m guessing you are? I only allow 10 undergraduate students under my tutelage, mostly juniors and seniors, so—”

 

“And what of sophomores and first years, good sir?”

 

Georges freezes. What idiot could  _ possibly  _ interrupt Mr. George Eacker while he’s speaking?

 

He turns to his left. Oh god, that’s  _ his  _ idiot. It’s his roommate interrupting Mr. Eacker speaking.

 

“Ahem. Sophomores and first years can enroll as well, I suppose, but you’ll need very good luck, Mr…?”

 

“Hamilton, sir. Philip Hamilton.”

 

Eacker’s clear annoyance faded from his face. He seemed to abandon any semblance of a schedule now. Georges couldn’t tell if this displayed his immaturity or his absolute control over the situation.

 

“Hamilton! You wouldn’t happen to be related to  _ the  _ Hamilton, would you? Alexander? The man who single handedly  _ destroyed  _ that defamation case some years back? The one who defended known murderer Levi Weeks and still managed to get him acquitted within  _ five minutes  _ of deliberation?”

 

Georges swears he sees Philip deflate a bit. He feels sorry for him. It must be hell living in such a large shadow. Even when Philip actively tries to shift out of the shade of his father’s legacy, someone just shoves him back in.

 

“What of it?” He says, unimpressed. “Yeah, the guy’s is my dad.”

 

“Oh, where does the time go! Do I have some words for you!” Eacker laughs, and it’s…unsettling. Everyone else in the room, even the most studious, have all stopped taking notes. Where was he going with this?

 

“Yes, Mr. Eacker, sir?”

 

“You’re just like your father,” He starts off, dismissively. “No regard for authority, no respect. Loud and brash. You feel entitled to everyone’s time and attention just because you have a certain last name? Shameful. At least he has the resume to back up such an annoying mouth, you’re jumping the gun a bit, don’t you think, kid?” He chuckles, and some of the undergraduates join in, most likely in the interest of brown-nosing. 

 

“Now, onto what I was saying…”

 

Georges feels his stomach flip over. He couldn’t imagine his hero talking so little of him to his face.

 

_ Hey. I know we don’t always get along, _ he wants to say.  _ But that was brutal, and I understand if you want to leave. I’m right behind you.  _

 

Georges decides to say nothing.

 

He dares to look Philip’s way, though. The stars in his eyes have gone supernova, and they were ready to burst with passion.

 

“Now just you wait, Eacker!” Philip shouts and stands. Georges gasps, and some security guards scurry to dispose of the noisy student.

 

“No, no, wait,” Eacker says, waving off the guards. “Let the little princess say his piece.”

 

“My dad may not be the best, and he has a ton of faults, believe you me. But that doesn’t give you free range to talk badly about him in front of all of these people, not even to his face, that’s just cowardly. Give him a chance to defend himself! You don’t even know him.”

 

“He lives his life in the spotlight, Hamilton, he’s obsessed with histrionics, what more is there to know? He’s a whore for attention as well as…well…other things.”

 

“You’re so full of shit!” Philip yells. The guards proceed forward and grab him. Philip makes a terrible fuss out of resisting. 

 

“You’re a sham, an elitist bully! I can’t believe I wanted to be in your circle jerk of a class! You don’t fucking know my dad, keep his name out of your mouth or I’ll knock it out of you!”

 

“Philip!” shouts Georges.

 

“You’re far dumber than your father,” Eacker states, curt and angry. He’s obviously shaken up now. “Your father got into this college with nothing but his wits, but you? You’re just a legacy student trying to fit into shoes that you can’t even afford.”

 

Eacker proceeds with his talk as if nothing happened. Georges can’t stand it. He rushes out of the auditorium behind Philip being carried off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hello, again. i'm semi-back.  
> this fandom is imploding and i have billions of WIPs to work on, i know. i am sorry. things are really hectic right now, being a ~real adult~ now, and what not. this is just sort of a fun "writing my thoughts down story." it's going to get pretty dark. i hope that you enjoy it.
> 
> and just to explain things better...this is a reincarnation au in which the characters do not know of their past lives.


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